


A Curious Thing

by justacitygirlbornandraisedinwhoops



Series: ma, pa, their babies and an uncle [3]
Category: Adventures of Huckleberry Finn - Mark Twain, Adventures of Tom Sawyer - Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, What else is new, and tom and becky's oc baby yet again, huck underestimates how soft he is and doubts himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 14:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justacitygirlbornandraisedinwhoops/pseuds/justacitygirlbornandraisedinwhoops
Summary: One night, I rode over to see Tom and Becky and baby Carrie, because the last time I come was when she was borned. I tell myself, it’s a right down shameful thing, not to ride over so’s to see your own living breathing niece, so it was decided. I done it and I rode over. As soon as Tom open the door and seen that I come though, he didn’t look too happy to see me.





	A Curious Thing

Everyone in St. Petersburg was growing up.

We was all growing up too fast, it seemed, including me. Even Tom Sawyer did some growing eventually, and he did it right besides Becky Thatcher. Why, it certainly was a surprise to me, but Tom he kept true to the promises he'd made when we was still just boys: It didn’t take hardly any time for the two of them to get hitched. They was only 18 when it happened, and it didn’t take but a year for even more to come after that. It made me feel older than I was, seeing my closest comrade already a married man, with a little something else on the way, too.

Soon enough, the baby come, and Tom and the missus called her Carrie, and she was his little angelfish, says he. Yessir, he loved that baby more than life itself, I reckon. There was times when I’d watch him real close while he carried her right up against his breast, and I could a sworn that their hearts was a-beating as one, on account of how close they was, and how her little chest rose and fell with his, and how Tom’s eyes looked so soft on her, like he couldn’t bear leaving her in a million years.

Carrie she looked an awful sight like Becky. Sometimes I reckoned Tom saw Becky in his little Carrie, and that was only partly why he loved her so.

But, shucks, the _ crying. _ I loved that child just as well, but did she tear on and on. She could a hollered just as long as Tom could a held her—forever! And I never knowed before just how much looking after a baby needed to survive. All of a sudden, I got to feeling ashamed of myself, and how I reckon I give my mam the same trouble when I was little too. _ Babies is a lot to care for_, says Tom, looking just about as low-down as he could get, _ don’t you forget it, Hucky. _ But he never seemed _ too _ ornery, so it must a been worth it, all the fussing and feeding and changing, somehow.

The more I got to being around with Tom and Becky and Carrie, and it warn’t that much, the more I got to thinking if I ever planned on getting into this confounded marrying business, and having littluns of my own, I druther be shut of it and just watch the Sawyers from afar instead. I allowed it’d be more fitting of me, anyhow, seeing as how I warn’t sure any lady’d want to make a family with me, without she was just as wicked as I was. But then I wouldn’t be sure if she was a lady—see, there’s women and then there’s ladies, and ladies is supposed to be delicate and genteel. I just couldn’t see myself getting along well with any of their kind; leastways, not _ that _ way, on account of me being all ornery and lowdown.

One night, I rode over to see Tom and Becky and baby Carrie, because the last time I come was when she was borned. I tell myself, it’s a right down shameful thing, not to ride over so’s to see your own living breathing niece, so it was decided. I done it and I rode over. As soon as Tom open the door and seen that I come though, he didn’t look too happy to see me. Leastways, he didn’t look too happy with Carrie crying in his arms. There was bags under his eyes, and he looked mighty tired. I wished it warn’t too late to light out a there and git, but Tom he pulled me in like he just seen his knight in shining armor and invited me over to stay for dinner. The invitation didn’t seem too inviting, if I’m being truthful about it.

I find out more than ever the way a ma and a pa look over their baby is a curious thing. A _ baby _ is a curious thing!

Just from that one night staying over for dinner at the Sawyers, I seen Carrie warn’t a happy little thing then, but she did have a grand set of lungs if I ever hear one. That was good, I was happy she was breathing nice and easy. I just warn’t sure I liked how she showed it.

Sometimes, Carrie would grab at Becky’s long hair done up all nice and pretty, and it would fall all around her face, and she’d walk right on like she didn’t notice or care, but when she passed Carrie over to Tom, she’d blow up the hair from her eyes and look up like she was begging the Almighty to help her see straight. And _ Lordy_, could a body escape from that child’s grabby little hands just because their hair warn’t long like Becky’s? No sir! She got to pulling _ Tom’s _ too! I near laughed out loud at that, and the look Tom give me, it could a killed. He asked me if I wanted to hold dear little Carrie, and I allowed I wouldn’t give Tom the chance to get his revenge, so I says no thank you, and just try to make Carrie happy again from far away.

After a little while, Becky she excused herself to start supper, and I don’t think I ever seen a body so happy to cook a meal before. That left Carrie to just Tom—and me, I suppose, though I warn’t very much help. Leastways, not in the beginning, I wasn’t.

First, Tom he set to pacing back and forth, back and forth across the room. Then, he got to sorter dancing with her in his arms, though it was really just dipping and swaying and rocking her to get her tired out. I reckon it worked more on him than it did that restless little thing.

Says I to Tom after a little while of his dipping and swaying and rocking, “Is she hungry, maybe?”

“We _ just _fed her, right before you come.”

“Does she smell?”

Tom stopped at that, and held her up so he could sniff her bottom. She got mighty frustrated at that; she squirmed around and nearly kicked him in the face, but he managed to avoid her kicking little feet, somehow. He looked real disappointed to see that she smelled as fresh as a daisy and shook his head.

“Huckleberry,” he says, sounding like _ he _was at the brink a tears, “Huckleberry Finn, I think I’ll just up and die if this girl cries for a minute longer.”

I knowed he was real serious then. Tom might call me Huck Finn when he wants to get a good point across, but he nearly never called me by my _ full _full name. I knowed the desperateness of the situation well then, but I dasn’t call in Becky, not when she was in the middle of making supper.

A thought struck me all of a sudden, but it most scared me to death to actually go on and try it out. It most scared me to death to even say it aloud. My hands was so rough all over, and they warn’t no hands to hold something as tiny and frail as a baby. Why, my whole self was so rough and coarse; my voice warn’t the kind to soothe a child, and my face was so stubbly and scratchy I was afeared it could a cut a babe’s soft little hand, such as her own.

But, there was the desperateness of the situation again, and it was very desperate, indeed.

I took a deep breath, and looked right at Tom. Says I, in a small voice, “You reckon I could…try holding her?”

Again, there came that look in his eyes; like I was his own knight in shining armor that come to his rescue, and I was plumb shocked at just how ready he seemed to hand his own baby over to _ me_. There warn’t no question about it, Tom was the most tired I’d seen him in years, and if I could spare him just a few moments of peace and quiet, I’d go on and at least try.

Now, although I had visited before to see Carrie, I ain’t ever held her before. Becky and Tom they offered me about a hundred times over—as long as my hands was washed and clean—but I reckon I was too afeard to try. Why, she _ was _ the tiniest baby I’d ever seen, and I’d seen plenty of babies in my day—could you name a body who hasn’t? But I’d never seen one when they just come out into the world, still all pink and blotchy and sorter lumpy. She warn’t even a week old by then, and Becky was still cooped up in bed, and Tom was doing his best to take care of them both. If I’d a taken them up on their offer and held Carrie, I bet I’d a dropped her, or given her sickness, or some terrible thing or another would a happened. It’s just _ too _in my line to take the chance. But, seeing now that she was a little older, and a little less tiny and easy to break, I racked up the gumption in me to hold that baby.

Tom he finally passed her over to me, real slow-like, and although he seemed more than happy to finally do it, he kept telling me over and over, “Hold her back up, just like that. See? Be _ careful, _ Huck Finn, I—Oh, pretend I ain’t even here, you’re doing just fine.” He took the cloth she was swaddled in, before she kicked herself free, that is, and went to sit over by the table, still watching me and Carrie close with his tired, drooping eyes.

I felt like my heart had jumped up in my throat, just feeling her in my hands then, all solid and not real heavy, but still _ something_. Something was enough to nearly give me the conniptions. I had worked myself up so I hardly even noticed that it was awful quiet all of a sudden. I looked down at her, my eyes bulging outta my head, and she looked back, her eyes bulging outta her head too. She had stopped her crying! Finally! She didn’t look happy exactly; she looked more confused than anything, like she wondered who this new fool holding her was, and where her ma and pa was. But I didn’t care much about that, as long as I knowed my holding her was working one way or another.

I tried brushing my thumb along her cheeks, because they was all wet with her tears, and she just sorter blinked and shut her mouth up. She turned her head round to get a look at her pa, like she was trying to figure out whether she should holler some more by seeing how he took to this stranger cradling her. Well, Tom didn’t do nothing but just smile at her a little and wave his finger, so she turned round again to me and kept on staring and staring.

“Well. She’ll pipe down for you, I see,” Tom huffs, sounding only a little pettish, but I could tell he warn’t actually sour about it none. He was still smiling at the two of us, and I reckoned he was happier than could be now that she was finally quiet.

“It ain’t on account of she’s fond of me, Tom,” says I, trying not to flinch at her little nails digging into my chest. “She just don’t know what to make of me yet. Lookie here, she’s sizing me up real well.”

“I suppose she is, hm?”

Soon enough, I stopped worrying that when the confusion went away, she would start crying again. The peace and quiet lasted for a good while after that, and Tom hurried up and ran to the kitchen to bring back a sugar rag for her to suck on before she even got the chance again. She took it just fine this time around, without any fuss; she didn’t throw it on the ground or nothing. It made me mighty glad to see Tom and Becky go about and do their business without the shrillness always ringing in their ears, and it made me mighty glad to finally get to hold Carrie, even if I warn’t certain about it before.

I was so happy, I didn’t even mind when she tried pulling on my hair. And that’s saying something.

When I looked up close in her face, I could see the both of them in her; I mostly saw parts of Becky, and I saw some parts of Tom, and I thought they mixed together just fine to make a handsome little baby. As much as I loved her already, I could see the parts much better than the last time I visited, and it made me even fonder somehow.

By and by, she got settled down enough for us to lay her down in her crib, and Tom and Becky and me enjoyed some vittles together. Becky’s cooking was always swell, but I judge she really outdone herself tonight. I told her so, and she says, “Huckleberry, you ought to come around more often. I’m more than happy to feed you.” I think she knowed well enough that I didn’t get nice, home-cooked meals very often, and she _ did _wish to fatten me up some. I appreciated her trying to care for me, and just sorter smiled at both her and Tom. I didn’t have to say nothing. They understood, and smiled right back.

Well, afterwards the three of us chatted some, but I could see that they was both plumb tired and worn thin. I said it was about time for me to head out, and I appreciated their hospitality, and I hoped to see them again soon. We said our goodbyes, and hugged, and by nightfall I was out and about, riding on my lonesome again. The moon was shining bright, and all I could hear was the _ clip clop, clip clop _of my horse trotting on the dirt road.

But I didn’t mind it none. I reckon an evening spent around a fussy baby would make anyone appreciate some loneliness every now and then.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back with more uncle huck shenanigans. i've had this in my drive for a little more than a year now and am finally getting around to finishing it! although i'm not sure the quality is so great, i'm really fond thinking of my take on future canon setting.
> 
> also, i've tried many times to write in huck's voice before, but this is my first time publishing one of those attempts. tell me how you think i did, it would really mean the world to me!


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